


Last of the Kissograms

by Sarah1281



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: F/M, Humor, old fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-05
Updated: 2015-09-05
Packaged: 2018-04-19 02:51:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4729988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sarah1281/pseuds/Sarah1281
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which the Doctor realizes that by 2008, Amy's part of a dying breed and gets some firsthand experience about just how awkward it is to listen to people going on about being the last of their kind. Good thing he stopped doing that with his regeneration.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Last of the Kissograms

The Doctor stopped what he was doing (exploring what various buttons on the TARDIS did and hoping he didn't break anything, if he was being honest) when a thought occurred to him. "Amy?"

"Yes, Doctor?" Amy asked cheerfully, looking up from the magazine quiz she was doing with Rory.

"You said that you were a Kissogram, right?" the Doctor began.

Amy cleared her throat and looked at the ceiling. "I do remember saying something about that."

"She's a little embarrassed about it," Rory explained.

Amy playfully shoved him. "Shut up, I am not. It's just a little awkward when people find out. Jeff's grandmother never looked at me the same after finding out about that…"

"Was there something you wanted to know about that?" Rory asked. He paled. "You weren't…curious, were you? Because remember, she is married now."

The Doctor cocked his head in confusion before his eyebrows suddenly shot up. "What? No, nothing like that, don't worry. That is absolutely nowhere near where I was going with that." He stretched his arms out wide. "It's like if this hand was where I was going and this other hand is that."

"You don't have to sound quite so horrified," Amy told him, annoyed. "Married or not, a girl's got her pride."

"Sorry," the Doctor told her sincerely. "It's just…you're Amelia Pond! Little Amelia Pond!"

Amy rolled her eyes. "You're never going to stop seeing me as a seven-year-old are you?"

"I don't know what you mean," the Doctor lied unconvincingly.

"Whatever," Amy huffed. "I knew I should have asked River about those pre-wedding jitters."

"It's probably for the best that you didn't," the Doctor disagreed.

"Can we not talk about you making out with the Doctor after running away with him the night before our wedding?" Rory asked uncomfortably.

Amy shrugged. "What's the big deal? I told him I needed to be back in the morning."

"Yes, but Amy, this is the same man who said he'd be back in five minutes and then was gone for fourteen years and then said he'd just take a quick trip to the moon and would be back to take you adventuring and was gone for two years," Rory reminded her.

"And when I came back it was five minutes after I'd left," Amy countered.

"Hindsight doesn't make it any more of a rational decision," Rory pointed out. "Look at his track record. What on Earth made you think he'd really be able to keep his promise?"

"Third time's the charm?" Amy said with a sheepish grin.

"Well, I suppose that it did work out in the end," Rory conceded. "Even if I had to die, turn into an animatronic Roman, kill you, guard over you for two thousand years, and watch the universe cease to exist before you managed to reboot it first."

"That's the spirit," Amy said, pleased. "Besides, it's the Doctor. Who could possibly resist running off with him whenever he asks no matter what else you happen to be doing?"

Rory raised an eyebrow at her.

"Oh, you don't count," Amy claimed. "You have no sense of adventure."

Rory laughed. "Maybe you should try telling me that when I'm not travelling around with you and the Doctor, Amy."

Amy made a face. "Pont. Well, you have a severely underdeveloped sense of adventure at any rate."

"I'd argue that you just have an overdeveloped sense and that therefore my perfectly healthy sense looks underdeveloped by comparison," Rory countered. "But hey, Doctor weren't you asking about Amy's status as a Kissogram in a completely platonic way?"

The Doctor nodded. "Yes, I was. Thank you for that reminder and that qualification, Rory. Amelia, I'm always a little fuzzy on years but you were born in the 1980s, correct?"

"1989, yep," Amy confirmed. "Why?"

"It's just…I remember Kissograms. They were huge back in the decade you were born but after that they sort of faded away. They were…" the Doctor trailed off, his face red. "They were replaced by more…"

"Strippers," Amy supplied.

The Doctor snapped his fingers. "Yes, that's it exactly," he said gratefully. "I was surprised to find a Kissogram in 2008, even in Leadworth."

To the Doctor's surprise, Amy's eyes promptly began to fill with tears.

Rory groaned. "Oh, never you've done it."

"Now I've done what?" the Doctor asked nervously.

"Amy doesn't like to talk about how she's the last of the Kissograms," Rory said reprovingly.

"It's just…" Amy trailed off. "You have no idea how hard it can be to find work! My looks aren't a problem and I'd like to think that I'm good at my job but even in Leadworth there's not really a market for Kissograms."

Rory put his hand on Amy's shoulder comfortingly. "I know, Amy, I know."

"The people who would pay for something like that generally want me to start taking off my clothing and so don't hire me or do and don't seem to realize that that's not what they paid for!" Amy cried.

"And you've never…you know…" the Doctor said awkwardly.

Amy shook her head. "No, never! If nothing else, my aunt would have a heart attack and I think that would be the limit to even Rory's understanding."

"It would be," Rory confirmed.

"There used to be plenty of Kissograms everywhere before I was born and everybody loved them. Gradually, though, they've all died off and sometimes it really does feel like I'm the very last. That's why I had to keep going on. Without me, there will be no more Kissograms and things would never quite be the same," Amy wailed.

The Doctor watched Rory consoling her awkwardly. "I never knew you felt so strongly about this. I mean, you've never talked about it." If she had, he would have known better than to ask something like that and set her off.

"She doesn't want to burden people," Rory explained. "They never know what to say and it kind of brings people down. I mean, how do you respond to that? 'Oh, you're the last of your kind? That sucks'?"

"Yes, I can see why people might feel uncomfortable about that," the Doctor agreed, now feeling more uneasy than ever. Since his regeneration he had barely mentioned being the last of his kind (he tried to remember if he'd told Rory) but before that…well, he hadn't meant to but it had kind of come up. A lot. Talking about it really hadn't helped as it only cemented his rose-tinted nostalgia which was ruthlessly shattered when he did get the chance to see his people again.

And now he was seeing it from the other side. Granted, Amy's angst at being the last of the Kissograms was nothing compared to what he had been through but if he were this uncomfortable about something relatively minor…yes, perhaps it was for the best that he no longer felt the need to go on about it.

"I'm okay," Amy assured Rory, squeezing his hand. "Sorry, I'm just feeling a little emotional lately, probably because of…well. You're the last of your kind, as well, and being the last of your species is a bit more serious than being the last of your profession."

"Oh, not to worry," the Doctor said easily. "It's not a contest after all. But if it were, I'd be winning."

Amy laughed and threw her magazine at him.

There, crisis averted.

The Doctor made a note to himself to never bring up Amy's prior job ever again. His nerves just couldn't take that kind of thing.


End file.
